


Singin’ with a swing

by Selma



Series: Scratch track [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hell's Studio AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selma/pseuds/Selma
Summary: Sammy is turned into an ink man, somehow goes only a little crazy - worries mostly about his record collection. Joey only needs a pinch of blood for the ritual to work, no big deal. Henry suffers in silence while Bendy just want to get back to making cartoons like they're supposed to.Also a piano is murdered. Everyone is a suspect.





	Singin’ with a swing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by and based on the Hell's Studio AU by doodledrawsthings.tumblr.com

 

> **Sammy is turned into an ink man – It’s all Joey’s fault (it’s not) – Henry is a good friend and colleague – Boris makes overalls look good – Bendy just want them to get back to work**

A man could only be pushed so far before he snapped. Sammy Lawrence could only be pushed about an inch before he snapped. This morning started with several inches.

First he stepped right into a pot hole on his way to the studio in the morning and it had been raining the night before. When he finally got to the studio, his left shoe and sock were soaked and it was slowly but steadily spreading from his sock and up his pants-leg.

His shoe had started to make a weird and soggy sound for every step he took when he joined the others for the morning meeting.

“I’ve always known you were a wet blanket, Lawrence, but aren’t you taking it too far?” Bendy quipped, earning a few stifled giggles from the rest of them.

Sammy pursed his lips and sat down, making sure to glare at each of them, reminding them he wouldn’t forget about this. That brought the merriment down a few notches.

It didn’t help his mood since their esteemed head animator had decided that in order to make the next deadline they needed to move around a few people. Including Boris, from the music department to the script room for a few last minute revisions. Of course Sammy complained but no one listened, especially not Bendy.

Then it was the ink. It was always the ink. It had become more bearable since Alice arrived but they hadn’t exactly been able to bring in a professional for the piping. The ink pipes were a hassle on the best of days. On the worst days, they messed up Sammy’s music sheets, clothes and more. Today was one of those days.

Sammy took his lunch break with Norman and the band, not for the company but to make sure the band didn’t dawdle when they had a ton of recording to do and little help since Boris was off in the script department.

The idea of a quick and effective break went out the window when Sammy packed up his intended meal. Ink dripped from both the paper and the bread. How it managed to get soaked through and through without him noticing Sammy had no idea.

“Maybe you can eat around it?” the bassoonist suggested. He should've focused more on working on his weak performance with the bassoon instead of coming up with bright ideas in Sammy's opinion.

“Or you can have half of mine. It’s real good.” Norman offered.

“I don’t want your pity”, Sammy threw most of his lunch in the trash.

“It’s not pity, it’s ham”, Norman said.

“Looks like some of the ink got on your shirt”, the bassoonist added. He realized almost instantly that it was the wrong thing to say.

 

As band conductor, Bendy felt a little kinship with Norman. The man had experience trying to basically steer a bunch of loons in the right direction. It made it easy to talk to Norman which was why Bendy had no idea what he was in for when the band conductor stopped by his office.

“How's the recording going, Polk?”

“It was going fine until Sammy left", Norman replied.

“What? He left? I need that recording done today.”

“He said something about how he was going to murder everyone, then he headed for Joey's ink machine.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

Norman gave Bendy a pointed look. Bendy clutched his head, ink threatening to spill over his face.

“I’m just trying to make cartoons. This is a cartoon studio. It shouldn’t be this difficult, right?”

“You’d think so”, Norman agreed.

 

Bendy found Sammy right where Norman said he would be; in the ink machine room. His jacket was off and his shirt sleeves rolled up, the large ink stain clear as day on the white fabric. When Bendy arrived, Sammy was getting warmed up by swearing up a storm over the machine itself and the pipes all around the studio.

“Heeeey, Sammy-boy, whatcha up to?”

Sammy answered him by delivering a particular impressive kick to one of the smaller pipes running along the wall from the machine. Impressive for a man of his build and that he didn’t paus his colorful tirade at all.

The pipe gurgled ruefully. Not unlike Henry’s stomach when he tried the sandwich shop round the corner before the health inspector shut it down.

Sammy only had time to utter a quiet and comically well timed “Oh no” before the pipe burst.

The spray of ink forced him to take a step back before the flow sputtered out and died. The short burst of ink left Sammy completely drenched. He stood stiffly, arms away from his sides and shoulders raised high.

“I think I swallowed some of it… “ Sammy said in a deeply offended tone.

All I want to get back on track and make a cartoon, Bendy thought as he moved his short legs as fast as he could when Sammy made a determined rush to the bathroom, was that too much to ask?

“Good idea, Lawrence. It’ll probably come right off”, Bendy said encouragingly.

Sammy started up his colorful and now quite imaginative swearing again behind the locked door. Bendy had just decided it was better to leave the music director be when the angry tirade suddenly stopped.

“Hey, Sammy?” Bendy knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”

He received no answer. Bendy knocked a bit louder.

“Sammy? Come on, open up or at least say something!”

Not even a peep from the other side.

“Hey, Sammy?” Bendy tried in his sweetest voice, “If you don't open this door I'll go into your office and touch everything.”

That usually had Sammy riled up in no time but now there was no reaction at all.

Bendy started banging on the bathroom door as Wally strolled by, mop slung over his shoulder like a rifle.

“Don’t mind me, boss. When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

Bendy would’ve pinched his nose in frustration if he had one.

“It’s Lawrence. He won’t come out.”

Wally looked mighty uncomfortable.

“Uh, I don’t know how it works for you guys but there’s some things a man needs a little privacy doing.”

“Oh brother… “ Bendy pulled at Wally and motioned towards the bathroom.  “Just get this door open.”

“But- “

“Do it or you’re outta here!”

“Right away, sir!”

It took him a few tries but Wally finally managed to get the door open; revealing Sammy slumped on the floor. He was entirely covered in ink. No... not covered in it. It rolled off him in waves, smearing the tiles black and there even was a few hand prints streaked across the mirror above the sink. Sammy looked like a compact mass of ink that had been poured into the shape a person

A featureless face looked up at Bendy.

“I can’t get it off… ” he held up his inky hand for Bendy to see.

Then he suddenly seemed to snap out of his stupor and pointed accusingly at Bendy.

“You!”

“Me?” Bendy took a careful step back.

“Him!”

“Uh… me?” Wally asked, taking a couple of steps back as well. He was definitely not paid enough for this sort of thing.

It was a little heartening that even in his current state; Sammy managed to level the same disdainful glare at Wally as he always did. Then he barreled through the both of them before either Wally or Bendy thought to stop him. Of course he was going straight for Joey’s office.

“Go get Henry,” Bendy said but Wally was already sprinting down the corridor.

Smart man, Bendy thought as he pursued Sammy. He deserved a raise for quick thinking like that. Unless he was just running away. Then he was still a smart man but definitely getting fired.

 

Joey was catching up on some light reading when the door to his office was slammed open with a loud bang.

“I’m only looking at the pentagrams I swear!” Joey shut the book at same time as Sammy howled a drawn out: “JOOOEEEY DREEEW!”

Joey swiveled around in his chair, the dark tomb forgotten for the moment.

“Sammy?” he leaned forward on his chair and straightened his glasses to get a better look at the inky apparition.

“Look what you’ve done!”

“Technically, you kicked the pipe and – “ Bendy said as he skidded into the room.

Sammy nailed him to the wall with a glare and the toon changed his tune effortlessly.

“But it’s mostly Joey’s fault, yeah!”

Sammy stalked towards the still seated Joey.

“Fix this!”

Joey glanced at Bendy.

“Fix what?” Joey asked.

Luckily it seemed that Wally was going to keep his job because Henry arrived just in time to stop Joey’s office from becoming a grisly murder scene. The slightly burlier man managed to get a steady grip on the wildly flailing Sammy and drag him out of the room.

After some wrangling they managed to calm Sammy down. It was mostly the appearance of Boris and Alice that did it since the sight of the distressed Boris seemed to make the fight seep out of Sammy.

“I look ridiculous.” Sammy pulled at the straps on the overall he’d been given to change into

 “Hey now… “ Boris said. “I just thought you’d want something that wasn’t dripping with ink.”

“Don’t listen to him, pal,” Bendy reassured, “Not everyone can pull off your style.”

They agreed that Sammy would have to stay at the studio until Joey had solved this little issue. Hopefully it would be soon since Bendy had promised that Joey would give the problem his full attention.

Even though that would severely impinge on their chances to make the next deadline. Not that Bendy said that part out loud now that they had Sammy relatively calm, at least more cranky than furious for the moment.

His complaints about being confined to the studio seemed more routine than genuine. It was almost worrying how quickly he gave in, no matter how sensible the decision was.

 

The sudden transformation caused some alarm among the rest of the studio. Joey managed to calm them down by assuring them that they would be fine as long as they didn’t go around kicking the ink machine.

“Probably”, he added. “Of course I can’t be sure.”

“Maybe stop there”, Bendy advised, shoving Joey back to his office.

Sammy resigned himself to his own office, annoyed by the stares and by people tiptoeing around him. He sequestered himself in the office, trying to get some work done but mostly spent the time staring at nothing and smoking like a very distressed chimney.

Henry offered to swing by Sammy’s place to pick up some of his things since he would be stuck at the studio for the foreseeable future. There wasn’t much to bring since Sammy didn’t want to stain anymore of his wardrobe and claimed that he wasn’t feeling hungry or thirsty.

“I brought your toothbrush and a couple of your records, if you get bored.”

“Hmf”, Sammy muttered which was probably as close to a  _thank you_ Henry would get.

“Put them somewhere”, he gestured to the office at large. “I don’t want to get ink on the sleeves.”

As if to prove his point he accidentally smudged some of the music sheets he’d been trying to go through when Henry stopped by.

Henry careful put the records away where Sammy could get to them later.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, that’s fine. You can go now.”

Henry shrugged and turned to leave. At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Sammy didn’t look at him once, he just smeared ink from his hand across the surface of the desk.

 

 

> **Sammy knows how to have fun – He tried it at least once - Bendy decides on a new studio policy regarding human sacrifice – A brutal piano murder – Everyone is a suspect**

As the day went on the studio began emptying out and the place slowly began to quiet down. During the day there was always the background noise of other people. Now it was just the sound of the studio itself, the creaking and settling of the building around him – somehow feeling enormous now that it was empty.

Or rather nearly empty since Sammy was stuck there and of course the toons were around somewhere. Not that he would ever admit it but right then and there Sammy was grateful for their presence. He wasn’t alone in being stuck in the studio. Even though he could probably blame them for being there at all for his current state.

At least he wasn’t dripping ink everywhere anymore. Still he left unsightly smears of ink that made work slow and difficult. Alone with his thoughts and no real distraction from his situation made Sammy restless so he finally left his office.

He roamed around the studio, noting how the rooms looked different when the studio was empty. He felt like a ghost haunting the place. What if that was going to be his life from now? Well, then he’d at least the get opportunity to haunt the life out of Joey Drew. It was a small comfort.

“Geez, you’re making me tired just looking at you.” Sammy turned, finding the source of the voice.

“I could hear you pacing out here from my place”, Bendy said motioning down the corridor.

“Sorry if me being around is an annoyance to you”, Sammy snapped.

Bendy rolled his eyes.

“Henry said he brought some of your records over, why don’t you play them on and try to relax a little? No neighbors around to complain about volume.”

Sammy compulsively looked down at his hands.

“Oh is that all? Why didn’t you say so, I can put them on if you don’t want to mess them up.”

“No, that’s- “

“HEY! BORIS!”

The wolf toon stuck his head into the room as if he’d been lurking just around the corner

 “Yes, Bendy?”

“Party in Sammy’s office tonight.”

“Don’t- “

“What a wonderful idea!” said Alice, suddenly right by Sammy’s side.

Was this an ambush?

He didn’t have the time to voice anymore protests before he found himself dragged back to his office, this time with a toon entourage. Sammy found himself pushed down into a chair while Alice hopped onto his desk and Boris grabbed another chair.

“What should we start with?”

Bendy started riffling through the records Henry brought, the sight of that made Sammy feel was if his entire inky being was undulating. But he couldn't really touch any of the records himself. A lot of his past salaries had been spent on them.

“ _Downhearted Blues_ , Bessie Smith”, Sammy finally said.

“Sounds cheery.”

Despite his complaint, Bendy found the requested record almost right away. Sammy relaxed in his seat as the music began to play.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Sammy glanced over at Bendy.

"How can you be sure?”

"I know that Joey can be... well he's Joey but remember how he botched it when he summoned me? I was completely off model and look at me now."

Bendy did a little ta-dah gesture.

Sammy snickered; remembering the fascinating and horrifying first few days when a hulking monstrosity of inky darkness started badgering Joey about keeping deadlines. The toons' arrival to the studio hadn’t been all bad.

"I'll make sure it’ll be fine.”

“Are you making a promise you can keep?”

“See it from my perspective”, Bendy said with a grin stretching across his black and white face. “Got to keep one of my best little worker bees happy, right?”

"Right," Sammy said. “Why don’t we switch to some Benny Goodman after this one? If it’s cheery you want.”

“I didn't hear a 'please', Sammy-boy." Bendy chided.

" _Please_ , before I start throwing things."

"A real charmer, ain't ya?”

 

“How are you holding up?” Henry asked the next morning by the studio’s watering hole, also known as the small kitchen where they kept the coffee pot.

Sammy was throwing back the coffee like there was no tomorrow and finished his second cup before answering.

“This has absolutely no taste,” Sammy stared mournfully at the now empty cup.

“To be fair, this swill is more means to an end than anything else”, Henry said. “If it makes you feel any better, I can barely taste the coffee in this.”

“As long as I’m not the only one miserable.”

“There you are!” Joey rushed in, smile bright as the sun. “I have it! The solution! All it takes is one small ritual and you should be back to normal.”

“How many sacrifices are we talking?” Sammy deadpanned.

Joey had the good sense to at least look slightly bashful.

“Just the one, I think.”

“I have the perfect candidate in mind already," Sammy said, staring right at Joey.

“Excellent!”

Henry glanced between the two of them.

“Are you joking? Please tell me one of you is joking.”

“I’m not”, Sammy said helpfully.

 

Bendy managed to convince Joey that sacrificing anyone wasn’t an option and he would have to try to find another way. Sacrificing would really bring down the morale in the studio.

The second day as an ink person dragged on for Sammy. It helped that their business wasn’t exactly nine to five but it felt odd when day turned to evening, knowing he wasn't going home tonight either.

He tried eating and drinking even though he didn’t necessary feel he had a need to do so.  Sleep had felt almost perfunctory. It was like he was acting out a play. Pretending to be human.

At least he could still smoke all he wanted but that didn't help any with the numbness in his limbs, or how he was constantly aware of the ink that seemed to make up his body. He felt himself shifting form, the ink flowing in and around him. Sammy could almost get lost in the ebb and flow so when the knock came on the door he was grateful for once.

At this hour it could only be one of the toons. Since the door hadn't been slammed open, Sammy could at least assume it was either Boris or Alice. Thank God for small mercies.

It was Boris. He looked worried.

"What", Sammy barked and then added in a softer tone, “What is it, Boris?”

Because he wasn’t a complete jerk.

“I was just thinking, since you’re here and all, well… “ Boris kept fidgeting as he spoke, his hands holding something behind his back. “Maybe we could um… if you’re not busy?”

"Technically I'm off the clock even if I'm stuck here. What is it you want?"

“I thought maybe we could play together?” Boris brought out the clarinet he’d hidden. “Not for work, for fun, I mean.” He sounded so hopeful.

“Fun."

“It's- “

Sammy held up a hand.

“I know what  _fun_ is.”

Boris nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s what I told them!”

“Told who exactly?”

“ ... no one?”

Sammy sighed.

"The piano is filthy with ink as it is. It can't get any dirtier even if I play on it," he said and opened up the door.

Boris’ tail wagged as he almost tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get in.

They spent the time making up nonsense melodies. Sammy at the piano he kept in his office and Boris on the clarinet. They were soon joined by Alice who added her own equally nonsensical lyrics to their melodies. It was easy company and Sammy could almost relax.

“Working hard or hardly working, eh?”

Sammy missed the piano entirely and slipped up, hitting his head on the piano keys and giving their little show a dramatic finish. Annoyed at both messing up and the interruption he glared at Bendy.

“Can I help you?”

Bendy sauntered over to them and gave Sammy a small shove.

“Move over, ink blot.”

“What for, shorty?” Sammy said even as he moved aside to give Bendy some more room at the piano stool.

“Ever play piano four hands?”

“Not recently.”

“Just follow my lead and prepare to be wowed.”

It wasn’t much to be wowed about. Between Sammy not really knowing his new form too well and Bendy seemingly more interested in ribbing Sammy than actually playing the piano, they were basically murdering the piano together.

"Hey, angel? Boris? Want to get in on this?"

The other toons didn't need to be asked twice and Sammy quickly found himself pressed in between Bendy and Alice with Boris sitting next to Bendy.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Bendy took position on the piano stool, one foot on the piano itself, going his best impression of a barker at a funfair. “Watch as not one, not two, not three but FOUR daring musicians attempt the impossible.”

“Could we maybe start playing now?”

“Quiet, Al, I’m trying to get a hype going.”

“For who?"

“Let him finish or we’re never going to get anywhere.”

“That’s the spirit, Sammy! As I was saying… something not even Beethoven himself dared. Piano four hands? Bah! Child’s play! Piano six hands! What is this? Amateur hour?”

“Not speaking for myself, of course, but- “

“Quiet, Sammy. BEHOLD! The world’s first concert of piano eight hands!”

With just a few keys between them it soon dissolved into a free for all jamming session. For a blessed moment, Sammy forgot about everything else except making sure Bendy didn’t horn in on the set of keys he deemed at his own.

“Hang on!” Bendy said when they decided to give the poor piano a break.

He poked Sammy sharply in the side.

“Are those your pearly whites I see peeking through all that ink? Lawrence, you sneaky devil, are you sitting there and smiling without saying anything?”

Sammy slapped the offending hands away from his sides.

“I think you’re seeing things. You should get some sleep,” he said as he started to herd the toons out of the room.

“Good idea, we’ll need all the sleep we can get when the press get here tomorrow to record this historic event.”

"Funny." Sammy muttered.

"I'm a funny guy."

"You could say that. Good night, boss."

  

 

> **No goats were harmed – Henry gets peer pressured into smoking – Alice helps**

A dangerously excited Joey greeted them the next day while they were trying to get their share of coffee before the day really began.

“I’ve figured it out!”

“And… ?” Bendy urged.

“This ritual is quite simple. It only requires a little blood. Just a pinch of blood. One goat. Tops.”

Boris’ ears drooped.

“Poor goat.”

“Maybe two goats, just to be sure”, Joey said while rubbing his chin.

“No goat sacrificing either, Joey. This is a family friendly establishment”, Bendy said.

Henry suffered as sudden coughing fit.

“Fine”, Joey said, “Then I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Sammy didn’t say anything.

 

“How are you holding up?”

Henry was starting to feel like a broken record but he was worried. Sammy wasn’t acting like himself. Granted that wasn’t strange considering everything.

Sammy had taken up Henry’s earlier offer since he had all about given up getting much done that day. Not only did he keep getting ink everywhere but it was difficult to think with the general sense of… wrongness.

He didn’t know how seeking Henry out would help with that, but hanging around the animator while he worked proved adequate distraction. Henry seemed okay with having something lurking and loitering close by as he continued drawing.

“I feel like I’m slowly being driven into the mouth of madness. A little bit closer every minute.”

“So… like normal?”

“Except now I can do this,” Sammy took a drag on his cigar, puffed his cheeks out and the smoke poured out of his ears like steam from a boiling tea kettle.

“That’s… that’s something alright.”

Sammy looked thoroughly unimpressed with the praise. Henry settled for patting him on the arm instead. The inky substance felt a little strange. Different but not worse than Bendy’s when he was in one of his stressed out melting moods.

At his touch however, Sammy stiffened visible and Henry quickly pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t- “

Sammy left without a word.

Henry hadn’t meant to upset him in any way but it was probably for the best to leave him be. It turned out Sammy didn’t need quite as much alone time as Henry thought. Later the same day, Henry once again felt the presence of something looming behind him. A shadow fell across his work area.

“Oh hey, Sammy. What can I do for you?”

“Smoke break?”

“Oh, I don’t usually- “

Sammy glared at him.

“-but I can make an exception… “ Henry continued smoothly.

They sat quietly together at first. It was not the first time even if Henry tried not to smoke when he worked. When he failed in his discipline, Sammy had always been fine with Henry bumming a cigarette or two from him, with the added jeering word or two to go along. Henry always thought that maybe Sammy appreciated their occasional smoke breaks.

“I’ve tried eating”, Sammy suddenly burst out.

“Oh-kay?”

“It feels wrong. I can’t taste anything. Thank God that smoking still does something for me but that’s probably because the motion is familiar. Even my sense of touch seems off.”

Sammy stubbed out his cigarette forcefully.

“Henry, what if Joey can’t fix me?”

Henry put his hand on Sammy’s shoulder. It was a steady grip and he didn’t let go even when Sammy stared at his hand like it was something otherworldly.

“Look, I can’t say I get how this even happened but there’s no point in thinking like that. We might be crazy for working here but if Bendy can get Joey to focus on a deadline, he can make sure Joey fixes this.”

Sammy didn’t look convinced but seemed to lean into the hand at his shoulder.

“Ah, there you are, Sammy!”

Henry sure wished Joey could have a better timing.

“I’ve finally figured it out.”

Henry kept his hand on Sammy, both to calm him down and in case Sammy was going to go off the rails again.

“All I need is some of your blood, Sammy.”

“What?” Sammy looked down at himself, “I’m not sure if I have blood anymore.”

“No, no!” Joey was almost bouncing in place, “For the ritual to work it needs to be pure human blood, not anything contaminated with ink. I thought that you maybe... ”

“Easy, Lawrence… “ Henry said while feeling every single nerve in neck tense up.

“Are you asking me”, Sammy began slowly, “If I saved up some of my blood from before this transformation?” his voice went up a few octaves, “Like a bucket in the fridge for emergencies maybe?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joey laughed, “I  don’t need a whole  _bucket_  of blood- HEY NOW!”

Joey hurriedly jumped back a few steps to avoid getting a fist right in the nose.

“Maybe you should- SAMMY!“ Henry tried to get a good grip on the music director. “Joey, you’re gonna need to give us five – SAMMY THAT’S MY FACE! Maybe give us five minutes, Joey?”

 

After managing to hold on to a furious Sammy for the second time in an all too short time span, Henry went to find Bendy.

“What do you mean ‘ _you need to talk to Sammy’_?”

“I mean… you need to talk to Sammy, boss.”

Bendy’s bow tie was undone, hanging loosely over his shoulder and his short sleeved shirt was wrinkled.

“Look, Henry, we’re barely managing this production as it is. Not with Joey doing his thing and Sammy, well I’m not a demon in the sense I’m gonna hound a guy when he’s dealing with… unfortunate circumstances. What I'm saying is that I have my hands full here.”

“I’m worried about him and I think he’ll listen to you.” Henry was using that damn reasonable voice of his.

“What do you want me to tell him? We’ve all been telling him it’s going to be fine. Me, you, Alice, Boris, Joey… well, Joey’s been talking about where to get human blood which is uh… maybe not all that reassuring.”

Henry just looked at him which was even worse than the reasonable voice.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Sammy. Again! Just take that scruffy sad face outta here and head on home.”

“Will do, boss.”

 

Alice knocked on Sammy’s door, waited a couple of seconds before she walked in. Sammy was at his desk, staring into the wall. There was a pile of barely legible music sheets piled up on the floor next to the desk.

“Go away, Alice. I’m having a small breakdown. I think I’ve earned it today.”

She hopped up on his desk so she could sit next to him. Sammy let his forehead meet the desk with a dull thud.

“Go away, Alice”, he repeated.

“Sammy… “

“No. Don’t. Everyone keeps telling me it’s going to be fine. What if it’s not? What then? I’m going to be stuck as… as this thing.”

“Would that be so bad?”

Sammy’s head shot back up again. Alice looked surprised herself at the words.

“I mean… “ she tried to smile. “It’s not that I don’t understand how this must be unpleasant and frightening. It’s just that… if you stay like this you’d never change. Just like us. Maybe? I think… ”

Alice carefully picked up Sammy’s unresisting hand, looking it over.

“We don’t change, not counting the occasional redesign but we don’t change like you do. Heaven knows Bendy’s not going to think about it unless he absolutely has to, busy as he is, but I’ve thought about it. A lot. It’s stupid but when you got like this I thought that at least it would be nice if one of you could… “ her voice wavered.

Sammy feebly tried to come up with anything. If she started to cry everyone at the studio would kill him.

“Good news,” he said hoarsely, “I now feel terrible but for completely different reasons than before.”

Alice forced out a laugh.

“I know it’s selfish, it’s not that I want you to be miserable.”

“I’m always miserable”, Sammy said and leaned a bit closer, “And don’t think I don’t know what people say about me around here.”

Alice was starting to grin.

“Oh, what do people say about you, Mr Lawrence?”

“That the only thing that’s nice about me is my music. If I'm any good at this, all those stupid cartoon songs will be around for a while after I'm gone. Some would say that's a better deal."

She smiled a real smile at him.

“Well, you are pretty good at this music stuff.”

“Yes, I know."

 She bopped him on the head.

“Sorry for… well, you know. I’ll leave you alone now.”

He watched her hop down from the desk and head for the door.

“Wait, before you go. Could you help me with the records?”

Sammy held out his hands as an explanation.

“Then, if you want, you could stay and listen?”

“With you?” Alice had no right to sound that excited.

“No, I’ll be sitting in a different room.”

“Sometimes you’re worse than Bendy.”

“Here I thought we were friends and then you go and insult me like that.”

 

 

> **Boris helps - Bendy has done nothing wrong in his life – Sammy 's brain breaks – Henry doesn't know when to quit**  

Maybe he should be flattered that Henry thought a demon like him could perform miracles. He’d been around to Joey’s the check his progress and unfortunately there was nothing yet that would be worth getting Sammy riled up for. Still, Bendy trudged along towards Sammy’s office where the music director usually could be found, even before his sudden change.

If Bendy couldn’t deliver any good news, he would have to find another way to steer Sammy’s mind from going off the deep end. Any other direction would do at this point. As he got closer, Bendy could hear music coming out of the music director’s room along with Alice’s voice.

“Hey, Sammy!” Bendy slammed the door open, only to be greeted by Alice’s horrified gasp. He took a step forward over the threshold and almost slipped on the floor.

A large inky puddle seeped out from under the wide open door that had been slammed against the wall, as if a balloon filled with ink had popped behind it. Behind the door Bendy could see a glimpse of familiar and slightly ink stained overalls.

“Sammy… “ Alice said quietly, hands covering her mouth.

“No, this isn’t… “ Bendy backed away, to his horror he left inky footprints on the floor. “We were supposed to fix you.”

As Bendy stared, unable to look away, Alice rushed forward and tugged at his arm.

“Is Joey still here?”

“I… yeah, in his office… “

He should go get Joey right away but… he’d said it was going to be fine. They were supposed to fix this. It wasn’t supposed to…

The ink puddle gurgled. It somehow managed to sound grumpy.

“Sammy?” Bendy said carefully.

A hand stretched out from the ink, it twitched for a second before an entire arm formed and reached out as if to find purchase to drag the rest out from the inky puddle.

“Why so glum, guys? Why are you hanging out in Sammy’s office?” Boris walked into the room, happy as could be. “Where’s Sammy? And what did I just step in?”

The arm dissolved under Boris’ foot.

"This... is... unpleasant... " the distorted voice from the ink puddle sounded even grouchier than before.

“That answer your question?” Bendy said, discreetly wiping his feet on the floor.

“Bendy!”

“What, Al? He asked!”

“Th-that’s Sammy?” Boris paled which was quite a feat considering he was mostly in black and white.

Alice fell on her knees next to what was still Sammy Lawrence.

“Sammy, listen to me, do you think you can focus? Try to um… “ she glanced over at the other two toons for help.

“Pull yourself together!” Bendy slapped his knee while Boris shook his head him. “Come on! It’s funny!”

A couple of tries later Sammy managed, as Bendy aptly put it, to pull himself together.

“Atta boy, Sammy!” Bendy whooped. “I could kiss ya but I think maybe you want to get yourself decent first. There’s a lady present. Well, Alice is here.”

Sammy almost jumped into his clothes again and as soon as he had, he found himself wrapped up in a bone crushing embrace by Boris.

“You’re back to normal!” Boris’ tail wagged like crazy.

“In a manner of speaking,” Sammy forced out. "Please put me down."

"Sorry!"

Sammy was swaying slightly when he got to stand on his own two feet again. Bendy knew he probably shouldn't but it was too good to pass up. Besides, it would definitely get Sammy to think about something else beside his inky situation.

"Look at the mess you made, Sammy. Next time I'll have Wally mop you up."

"Me? It was you! Why can't you open a door like a normal person? This is why people knock!"

He really made it too easy sometimes and maybe it was a sign that Joey was a bad influence, but Bendy couldn't help himself.

"Careful now, you might pop a vessel like that or you know... just pop like a balloon all together."

It was a sight to behold when Sammy started work himself up.

 

Like many other evenings, even though he thought about trying to get an early evening, Henry found himself sticking around at the studio trying to get a little more done before he left. He tapped his pen against the desk, chewing his lip slightly and was about to give up for the evening when the sound of someone trying to be sneaky reached him.

Henry turned around. 

“What are you doing?”

The question was directed at Bendy who had cautiously entered the room without a word and was now peaking carefully out into the corridor. Bendy jumped a few feet in the air and then quickly spun around, fixing his bow tie with a flourish.

“Me? Oh, nothing… didn’t I tell you to go home, Henry?”

“Yeah, well, I'm about to- no, really, what are you doing?”

Bendy had pressed himself against the, eyes darting everywhere. He tried to look more relaxed at the questioning stares he was receiving.

“Just uh… hanging out. Say, you haven’t seen Sammy around?”

“Not… recently. Why?”

“Oh no reason. No reason at all.”

“Did you have a chance to talk to him?” Henry asked.

“I did talk to him, yes, but… well, he’s not mopey anymore at least. I’d say he’s closer to a seven on a scale between one and ten. Where ten is furious and zero is slightly vexed.”

Henry put down his pen.

“What did you do?”

“Hey! Why does it have to be me on the stand? Maybe Sammy did something, like how he kicked the ink machine in the first place.”

“You are hiding from him”, Henry pointed out.

“Not hiding. More like I want to know his whereabouts. So that I can remove myself far from those whereabouts without- “

“BENDY!”

The ink demon’s shoulders slumped.

“Aren’t I popular tonight… “

Sammy ran into the room. Despite his defensive position from earlier, at the sight of Sammy, Bendy’s mouth split into a huge grin. Henry was starting to regret he hadn’t left the studio when he had the chance. Apparently Bendy’s fondness for getting the music director riled up didn’t diminish even when said music director was a walking ink blot.

“Hey, Sammy!” Bendy even gave a little wave, “You’re looking chipper. Doesn’t he seem perky, Henry?”

Although Henry had to admit this was preferable to an almost despondent Sammy.

“I knew you could loosen up, I mean you loosened up a lot earlier”, Bendy said.

Sammy lunged for the ink demon who easily danced out of reach. Missing his mark, Sammy stumbled a couple of steps forward before getting his foot stuck in Wally’s bucket, he kept forgetting them around the studio after he mopped the floors. Something Sammy had been very vocal about before.

“Seems you got your hands full, Lawrence. Or should I say foot? Wait… does that work?”

Bendy shrugged and gave a salute that was even more obnoxious than the wave.

“This was fun but my breaks over, see you later!”

“Get back here, you little- “ Sammy tripped when he tried running at the same time as shaking the bucket of his foot.

“I can’t believe this is my life now,” he mumbled, face down into the floor.

Henry hurried over and helped him to his feet.

“Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure, I think I can't decide who makes me more mad; Bendy or Franks so my mind is shutting off."

"Maybe that's for the best for now?" Henry could help the small smile.

Sammy seemed to settle for glaring at him.

"Shouldn't you've gone home by now? What are you still doing here?"

"I've asked that myself many times."

 

 

> **A happy ending for everyone – Except for the bassoonist – Joey’s solves two problems in one day - Sammy writes a song**

“I know how we’re going to get you back to your old self, Sammy.”

Sammy turned slowly towards the older man who still seemed oblivious to the potential threat he was facing.

“Joey, I swear to God… “

The toons looked at each other; that was their cue. Bendy grabbed one of Sammy’s legs while Alice and Boris attached themselves to one arm each.

“Talk fast, Joey. I don’t know how long we can hold him and Henry isn’t here yet!”

“This is it, I promise! It’s going to work.”

“You better be right or I'm going to drown you in your damned ink”, Sammy was practically growling.

Soon they were gathered in Joey’s office where a freshly painted pentagram took up most of the floor space.

“Geez, Joey, couldn’t you have used the old ones you used with us? I’m pretty sure you’re not going to get your deposit back after this”, Bendy said while Joey was ushering a reluctant Sammy into the middle of the pentagram.

“No, it needs to be new if this is going to work.”

“Is  _this_  safe?” Sammy asked.

“Absolutely!” Joey replied cheerily. “But I’ve never tried it before, so who knows?”

Sammy tried to leave the symbols’ confines only to be gently pushed back by Henry.

“We’re here with you, Sammy”, Henry said, “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, I doubt Joey’s ability to not screw this up. That’s all.”

“You should probably be a little worried”, Bendy cut in.

Alice and Boris each gave Sammy the thumbs up, their smiles only slightly strained.

“See, Lawrence, everyone’s doing their part. All you have to do is stand in a pentagram and look pretty”, Bendy said with a deceptively calm voice that clashed with how he was pulling at his bow-tie. “So please and thank you, if you could just stand there and let Joey get on with it. I’d really like to get back to work before this whole place goes down the drain!”

Sammy puffed out a breath.

“Fine, but if I die I’m going to haunt all of you.”

“Just remember, ghosts get no vacation days”, Bendy replied and motioned to Joey, “Let’s get this show on the road!”

The change was almost anticlimactic. A few words spoken aloud followed by a deep sense of unease felt by everyone in the room. Then the ink poured off Sammy, leaving only the man as he’d been before in its place. With a few more inky smudges on his skin than usual. No one said anything at first. Sammy simply stared at his hands, turning them over to look at them from all possible directions.

“You um… “ Henry cleared his throat and searched through his pockets, “You got some ink on your face.”

He handed Sammy a handkerchief. Sammy took it with a dazed expression.

Then he started laughing.

Even Joey took a step back.

 

It didn’t take long for things to go back to normal. Normal for  _Joey Drew Studios_ at least. Joey had Wally make "Please do not kick!"-signs and had Wally hang them on the ink machine and on the pipes around the studio.

“That should do it!” he said proudly to Bendy.

“Or if we go by your history, Joey, people are going to do it just to see what happens.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Of course you don’t,” Bendy said, looking somewhere between frustrated and fond.

Sammy insisted on coming back after only one day of paid leave. Apparently he couldn’t relax even for just a day, knowing that music was being recorded at the studio without his supervision. It was with an almost visceral satisfaction Sammy surprised the band by coming back early. They were in the middle of warming up their instruments when he strolled into the recording room, already with a deep frown getting comfortable on his face.

"Jesus Christ!" the bassoonist screeched, almost dropping his instrument.

Sammy was starting to really dislike that guy. He was definitely not going to bother learning his name now.

“Stop acting like a bunch of high-strung bunny rabbits. I told you Sammy was back to normal”, Norman said.

“Yeah, well uh… that’s just it?” the bassoonist mumbled.

Sammy barely stopped himself from rubbing his hands together. Like he told Boris, he knew what fun was and this was definitely it.

By the end of the day he'd almost driven the bassoonist to tears but the bassoon part had turned out great.

 

Some time later, Sammy stopped by Bendy’s office. Catching Alice in there as well.

“Here you go, boss,” Sammy said as he unceremoniously dropped of a stack of papers on the desk.

“These the revised songs?” Bendy distractedly leafed through them.

“Yes and… “ Sammy looked at Alice, “This is for you.”

He handed over a music sheet to her.

“For the three of you I mean,” Sammy began fiddling with a cigarette, treating it like he didn’t know how to proceed with it.

“What is it?” Alice asked.

“You see, Al, music types like Sammy here like to put what they call notes together on a piece of paper and- “

Alice smile was angelic even as she bopped Bendy on the head with a bit more force than usual.

“It’s nothing”, Sammy muttered, “A silly little melody. I didn’t have much to do anyway and I was feeling inspired.”

Bendy looked doubtful. There rarely was “not much to do” around the studio.

“It’s for you three to play together.”

The toons stared at him.

“I mean, you were really… “ Sammy seemed to have trouble getting the words out. “It helped that you… when I was, you know. I thought, you’d like… “

“Are you being nice?” Bendy asked in stark disbelief.

“Nnnnggghhh”, Sammy muttered, making a big show of concentrating on getting his cigarette lit, his shoulders almost up to his ears.

“Or are you having a stroke?” Bendy continued conversationally.

Sammy left looking like a particularly irritated locomotive. Alice gave Bendy a reproachful glare.

“He makes it too easy, angel,” Bendy said, not sounding the least bit sorry, “Still it was surprisingly nice of him. Boris is going to love this.”

It was a simple piece but just below the title, it was still clearly signed with the music director’s neat handwriting. Making sure there could be no mistake who wrote it and for who it was for.

 _Song for demon, wolf and angel_  by Sammy Lawrence.


End file.
